


Dream No Evil

by ShrimpZilla



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 07:19:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2842760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShrimpZilla/pseuds/ShrimpZilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Inquisitor falls victim to Envy's portrayal of Cullen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dream No Evil

**Author's Note:**

> written for the dragon age kink meme

            “I am not your toy,” the version of Cullen conjured by the Envy demon spat. Trevelyan straightened her shoulders as it stalked towards her. This affected her more than the Leliana and Josephine that she had faced. Ill-advised infatuation with her advisor aside she had never seen the man with a face so filled with hatred before. It turned her stomach and made her nervous and scared. “I am Envy,” the demon reached out and grabbed her forearm, “and I will know you.” The grip was tight and even as she struggled to get away she knew that it was pointless. It pulled her to its so that their chests were pressed together and sneered down at her. “Tell me, Herald, in your mind…” It sneered down at her, wearing Cullen’s face all wrong and terrible, and then it was gone. She stumbled out of balance. “Tell me what you think.” She spun around to find the source of the voice, found Cullen—the demon—standing by the war table. She blinked and he was gone. Hesitantly she crossed towards it. The spirit boy had told her that Envy couldn’t truly get into her mind because of the Anchor. But the war table was from her mind. Could it only read her in a cursory fashion? She felt an arm wrap itself around her neck while another looped around her waist. “Tell me what you feel,” the voice that was almost Cullen’s growled onto her neck. She felt the demon press its body against hers, felt the cold pressure of armor and the hot hardness of something else. She gasped, startled and was spun around. The small of her back collided with the edge of the war table painfully. “Tell me what you see.”

            She saw Cullen shirtless and flexing before her, breathtaking even in the dank light of the Fade. Only it wasn’t Cullen she reminded herself and closed her eyes against the image. This was a demon, pulling things from her mind to use against her. There was a tight build in the bottom of her stomach that pushed down into her leggings. She disgusted herself. She was aroused by the sight of him, the feel of his body as he put his hands on the war table behind her, the sound of his chuckle as he bent his head to her ear. “Will this form help me know you?” His arms circled around her waist and pulled her against him while he ground his hips into hers. She opened her eyes, stared into the golden haze of Cullen’s eyes—no, they’re too shallow. Cullen’s eyes are deeper—as the demon grinned a lazy grin with Cullen’s mouth.

            Something in her snapped. Rationale? Self-control? Any semblance of what made her a respectable mage? Trevelyan leaned her face forward and ran her tongue along the scar on his lip. Envy was doing a very good impression of Cullen because the man’s cheeks shaded pink and he let out a small, startled breath of pleasure. Her insides felt like they had melted. She was a liquid font of fire and need. “I will wear you,” the demon Cullen promised as he laid his lips on her jaw, “like a second skin.” He bit down on the juncture between jaw and neck, suckled and gnawed until she could practically feel the mark. Her knees shook. She threw her head back and moaned. She hated herself. Envy had found his way to her. She would be beaten because of the way a man looked, the way his teeth and tongue worried her ear, the way his hand lowered to cup her sex through her clothes. His fingers grazed her opening and Trevelyan realized they were naked now.

            She tried to cover herself but Cullen took her wrists in his hand and held them between their bodies. “I will see you for everything that you are,” he said in a dark rumble. Her nipples hardened and she felt herself flowing wet between her folds. “I will feel glory through your body.” He pressed his mouth to hers, forced his tongue through her weakly protesting lips. He tasted metallic and tense like the air of the Fade felt. She fought against the hold he had on her wrists, wanting to touch as she was being touched in turn. But this isn’t Cullen, a voice deep inside her pleaded. It was drowned out by the sensation of his fingers inside her. She made a shuddering noise into his mouth and clamped her teeth down tightly on his bottom lip when he went to pull away. The sound he made in response caused a wave of coiled pleasure to tighten in her. She looked up at him, grinning his dark grin as blood settled on his lip. He let go of her wrists and flipped her over. He pressed against her ass and wound his fingers into her hair. He pulled back and she screamed as her body arced and her hips pressed back against him. He slipped inside her and held her hip tightly with the hand not pulling on her hair. The stubs of his nails tore into her skin as he pounded heavy and hard over and over into her.  

            “Cullen!” She cried. The demon bit her shoulder.

            “Call me by my name,” it demanded. But every time her pleasure crested it was Cullen’s name she screamed and always to the demon’s aggravation. It seemed like they were locked like this forever. It was the Fade so maybe it was true. Orgasm came and went, came again and left her a shivering, mewling mass of sweat and tears and bodily fluids. When it finally stopped she did not think she would be able to move, able to summon the strength to continue fighting. But she found it in herself. And she fought on. And she tried to put what she had let happen behind her because it was a moment of weakness and in the end it seemed to cost them nothing.

 

            Cullen awoke with a low groan building in his throat. He had woken hard each morning for the past week. Today was no different. As had become his practice he took himself in hand and brought himself to the completion his dreams always left out. It was always the same dream lately too. He sighed and lay in his freshly soiled sheets, staring up at the ceiling of his room. He was not unused to sexual dreams about the Herald. Much to his shame he had been having them fairly regularly since she joined with them. Oftentimes he even viewed them as a pleasant relief from the near constant nightmares that plagued him. But to have the same one over and over again? The same disturbing one? He shook his head and got up to clean himself off.

            It was going to be another day of trying to avoid the Herald’s gaze.

            How could he make eye contact with her after the dreams he had been having? The others were always very simple and easy enough to keep from his mind when she was around. The only one previous to this that had caused him a degree of embarrassment when he saw her was the time he dreamt they were in the Circle Tower with him still as Knight-Captain and her a supplicating mage making her escape attempt up to him with her mouth and body. That one still made him blush if he thought on it too heavily.

            This though… He was fantasizing about what was a terrible experience for her! No matter how he tried to fill his mind with different images of her before he slept his mind returned to the Fade of Therinfall. He supposed she must have sensed that something was wrong with him because the way she looked at him now was… unsettling. And by unsettling he meant that he was such a weak man that a glance from her sent his head spinning and the blood flowing to his nethers.

            That was the problem he was having now as they stood around the war table. He looked up at her through his eyelashes while Josephine was talking, assuming that her attention would be there. But it was on him and she caught his secretive glance. He couldn’t read the expression on her face but when she ran her tongue along her bottom lip and caught it briefly between her teeth he felt dizzy from the sheer force of which the blood left one head for the other. His mind fogged and he could no longer hear the other advisors. He could only imagine Trevelyan bent over the table while he fucked her from behind, screaming his name again and again.

            When the meeting ended he knew he had no hope of walking with them unnoticed. He made an excuse to linger behind, hoping he could conjure enough Templar focus to quell his erection. He felt like the idiot boy he had been years ago. He adjusted his pants, tried to even his breathing, and just as he felt that he was being successful he looked up and saw that the Herald had not exited like he had thought. He froze and stared at her, eyes wide and ears burning. Whether she noticed what was going on with him he couldn’t tell from her face.

            “Is it obvious that I’ve been having a hard time concentrating in the war room?” She asked. He swallowed and shook his head.

            “Is everything all right?” She put her hands on the table and sighed. The way her back bent slightly made him see his dream again. This was impossible.

            “I keep… seeing things from when I went into the Fade,” she offered. Her eyes flickered from the map up to him. The subtle glance made his blood hot. Maker, how he wanted her. She was so beautiful, so strong, so beyond everything he deserved. “Things about you,” she finished in almost a whisper.

            “I-- …” He cleared his throat when he heard his voice high and eager. “You can tell me about it if you think it might help. I’m here for you.” She looked lost for a moment staring at him. Her eyes trailed over him. He felt naked under the glare. It was invigorating and terrifying and he wondered, dumbly, if she knew about his dreams. Solas claimed to be able to walk in dreams. Could he have taught the Herald? Did she know his shame? “I’ve been having troubling dreams about your time there myself,” he found himself saying guiltily. “Though I have no idea what you went through my mind… has supplied its own interpretation.” She walked slowly around to his side of the table. He kept himself pressed up against it anxiously. He had a hand resting across Kirkwall. She placed her hand atop it.

            “A demon took your form to try to know me.” The words felt like a punch in the gut. He swallowed at a hard, dry lump in his throat. That was his dream. In a much less explicit description. Surely there was no way they were actually the same. He knew the nature of demons. He had made an educated guess in the plot of his own fantasy. She looked up at him with deep, searching eyes. He felt that he was still blushing and wished he knew how to stop.

            “Do you worry when you look at me that I am that demon still?” He breathed. She shook her head and smiled slightly.

            “No. I thought it was a good recreation in the Fade, but looking at you now…” Again she let her eyes travel the length of his body. Appraising he thought but more than likely simply looking. “You are so much more than what was offered.” She gripped his hand tightly for a moment and he squeezed in return. Then with a simple smile she turned and was on her way. He stood by the table for a few minutes longer once she had departed, quelling the pounding of his heart.

            Maybe he should ask Solas about his dream?


End file.
